


Sing That Body Electric

by simplyprologue



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Season/Series 02, Sex Toys, Will's Oral Fixation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 11:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5415113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyprologue/pseuds/simplyprologue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He asked her which one was her favorite. A faint blush coloring her cheeks, she rifles through the drawer in her nightstand, and wonders claiming which one would make for the least embarrassing admission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing That Body Electric

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** The working title of this fic was "Good Vibrations" which is all you really need to know about it, to be honest. In the time honored tradition of writing something embarrassingly explicit in the attempt of working out my writer's block... well, this happened. I'm going to hell, but I'm going to meet all of you there.

He asks her which one is her favorite. A faint blush coloring her cheeks, she rifles through the drawer in her nightstand, and wonders which one would make for the least embarrassing claim.

Not that Will’s asking to embarrass her.

That would have been the sort of thing that Brian would have done, had she owned more than one vibrator when she first encountered him. Instead he had just stumbled across the lone butterfly toy in her dresser with a moue of distaste, wondering why she _had one of these_ since he didn’t think she was _that sort_ of woman, bothering her about its presence as if threatened by its mere battery-operated existence, until she threw it out.

Then with Will the topic never came up after she classified him as the vanilla Midwestern Republican type in the bedroom, and his hands and lips and tongue and cock got the job done in more than a satisfactory fashion regardless. And after Will, in barracks and tents and hotel rooms there was never any time for herself, and definitely not in _that_ way, and so after she broke up with Wade, who was never spectacular in that fashion to begin with… well, she knew some long and lonely nights would be coming, and learned to make do.

Some companies, she’s learned, are very discrete about shipping and billing, and on occasion include free samples of expensive lubricants.

And now she’s also learned that _vanilla_ might not be a wholly accurate assessment of Will.

Reminding herself that she is a mature adult woman with every right to sexual gratification and to keep the tools to such gratification in the privacy of her own bedroom — which is now also inhabited, some nights, by her recent fiancé who in his boredom apparently decided to go through the contents of the nightstand on his side of the bed — a long and thin purple vibrator with a thick knobbed end and dramatic curvature to its design.

“Show me how to use it.”

Sliding his hand up under her tank top, he leans into her, forcing her to lay down against the pillows propped against the headboard. His hand cups her breast, his nimble calloused fingers finding her nipple and rolling it, soft skin between rough. She shivers, pushing her thighs together.

“How do you ask?” she says, head falling back.

His other hand joins the first, kneading her flesh, secreting her breasts together. Ducking his head, he traces her cleavage with his tongue, licking his way up to her neck, and then her ear. “Please?”

“Do you wanna watch, or—”

“Yes,” he answers, and not without enthusiasm.

It’s almost uncomfortably intimate. Almost, but not quite, and only because it’s Will that she’s doing this with. He kneels between her open legs, and she feels a flush spread down her neck and chest when she realizes that he’s there because it’s the best vantage point. Biting her lip, she reaches back into the open drawer, pulling out one of the sample-size bottles of lube. Vibrator and lube in one hand, she shimmies her panties down her thighs, and kicks them off — there’s a definite sense of dissonance, she’s so used to fantasizing about him when she’s doing this, and the idea of him actually _being here_ as she goes through the routine of preparing to get herself off is mildly overwhelming, regardless of how much sex they’ve had in the past seven weeks.

Her toes curl into the sheets, and almost as an afterthought she moves her laptop and notepad off the bed and onto the floor.  

Eyes flickering to his face, she uncaps the bottle, and dribbles the lube over her fingers, and then the toy itself. Hand moving to between her legs, she rubs her fingers over her entrance, and then her clit, spreading wetness over her folds. Her eyes return to Will’s face in time to see him lick his lips — a rush of arousal, entirely her own, surges against her hand.

Still somewhat nervous, she turns the toy onto his lowest setting with a sense of deliberateness.

“Just so you know, you can consider this an early Christmas present.”

Smirking, he leans over her to pull the neckline of her shirt down under her breasts, revealing her budded nipples. “Trust me, I am.”

“Goodwill towards man, and all of that.”

Looking almost demure, she brings the vibrator to the apex of her legs, placing it gently against her clit. Sighing, she circles it around the pulsing cluster of nerves, moving her hips with her own motions.

“Hopefully just one man.” Sitting back, Will rubs his palms up and down her calves.

“You’re going to make me shut down my lucrative webcam operation?” she teases, her head falling against her shoulder when she turns the vibration up to the next setting. Her gaze falls to the tenting in Will’s boxers, his erection straining against the button closure. “There’s a large market out there for British dominatrixes.”

He laughs, the sound low and an almost a growl. “You’re marrying into money, honey. I can bankroll your shoe fetish now.”

“But who can I boss around?” she pretends to question, dragging her eyes up his front and back to meet his own. Choking down a gasp, she presses the knobbed end of the vibrator down hard against her clit, testing angles until she finds just the right one, her legs opening even wider, her knees bending and sliding up the sheets towards the headboard. “Oh right…”

Working her lower lip between her teeth, she manages to move one leg back down, hooking her toes into the waist of his boxers, pulling at the elastic until his erection slaps up against his stomach.

The tip of his cock is a deep red, beaded with wetness.

She hasn’t even touched him yet.

“I could be into whips and handcuffs,” he says, working his jaw in an attempt of self-restraint. “I’m already a fan of you in leather.”

Sighing, she arches her back, and he catches her foot before she can remove it, lifting it to hook her ankle over his shoulder. She switches hands on the vibrator, sliding it down to her opening, testing it briefly, and then back up. “You’re just full of surprises tonight.”

“So are you,” he murmurs, turning his head to kiss her leg.

She hums, letting her eyes fall half-closed. By habit really; she’s used to doing this in the dark, with her eyes closed, under the blankets.

But Will’s hands keep her anchored, one on her foot, his fingers fanning up her shin and then sliding under her knee to stroke the sensitive skin there, and the other pushing up the hem of her shirt up past her navel, past the scar on her stomach from the stabbing — but still watching her, his pupils blown wide by lust, eyes dark and deep. She runs warm, and then hot, pleasure a molten ball at her core. Wriggling, she moans his name.

“Keep talking to me,” he says, voice edging towards a tone of desperation tinged with eagerness.

Planting her other foot on the mattress, she pushes the vibrator inside herself and then up, a powerful surge of pressure making her moan helplessly.

Will’s hand tightens around her ankle. “Oh fuck.”

Licking her lips, Mac opens her eyes again. “I’d think about you, when I was doing this. Imagine you were on top of me, or your head was between my thighs.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Loads of times.”

In, up, out. In, up, out, and back to her clit, then in again.

His tongue traces his lips with a purposeful slowness. Hearing a whimper escape her throat, she turns the vibrator to an even higher setting, rotating her hips around the wand. She feels swollen, and so wet that she’s frictionless in her ascent to climax. Rubbing at the bundle of nerves between her thighs with her free hand, she pushes the vibrator up inside her. The resultant wave of pleasure pushes her legs wide.

“God,” she moans. _“Yes.”_

Her breaths are punctuated by high airy sounds, her body roiling with arousal as her orgasm becomes imminent and after a moment, she notices that Will’s hands have stilled. Through half-mast eyes she looks up at him — his face fixed in a lustful trance, his erection flushed almost purple, the vein on the underside of him visibly pulsating. He swallows hard, blinking himself back into the present.

“Okay, shit,” he growls, and grips the handle of the vibrator, moving her hand out of the way.

Keeping her leg over his shoulder he drops to his elbows, burying his face in her wetness, his nose pressed against dark wiry curls as his tongue laps at her clit. Without a hint of hesitation, he breathes her in, and opens his mouth all the way, as if tasting her. Then he groans, the vibrations mixing with the vibrations from the toy, and she lets out a keening cry.

He pushes the vibrator up into her, testing strokes and angles and finding her g-spot, and holds it there with more force than she usually uses herself — she lets out a contained shriek, pushing herself up but not away, scrabbling for some sort of hold on the sheets, or his shoulders, and moans loudly when he puts her hands on his head.

“I like it,” he says, voice low. He speaks into her clit, pausing to suck at it thoughtfully. “I like it when you grab my hair — reminds me that I’m the one doing this to you.”

The lower half of her body moves of its own volition, sweat beading between her breasts, on her upper lip, in the crease of her thighs and calves. Mindlessly, she threads her fingers through the hair at his crown, tugging lightly.

“So noted,” she gasps, then pushes his head back down.

It doesn’t take long at all for her peak to hit her — or for her to hit her peak, she’s not quite sure who is hitting what or how, just that the leg slung over Will’s shoulder has gone entirely numb. It’s as if her nerves have become so overloaded with what is happening at her center that they’ve shut down feeling in any appendage not approaching sexual release because her other leg soon follows, and then the tips of her fingers, tightened against his head.

Relentless in his pursuit of her pleasure, he swirls his tongue against her, and MacKenzie has never been more appreciative of his oral fixation in her life.

Chanting his name on a constant near-scream, she pushes his face against her harder, both legs wrapping around his shoulders. Pushing the vibrator up roughly, he suckles her clit into her mouth, and at last her body obliges. Shuddering with climax, she arches up off the bed. Will keeps the toy where it is when she usually pulls it away from her over-excited nerves, and as pleasure veers towards pain it crosses the threshold into overwhelming. She tries to pull his head away, then confused by her body’s reaction, pulls it into her again, and she feels her orgasm turn into a second before he switches off the vibrator, pulling it out of her.

Lifting his head, he replaces his tongue with his fingers, sliding them gently over her over-sensitive core.

Breathless, Mac slings an arm over her eyes.

“That was the singular most amazing thing I’ve seen in my life.”

Raising her head off the pillows, she sees Will sitting back again, framing her with a leg on either side of her own. “I can’t feel my thighs.”

“No, seriously.”

“I’m being serious. My left arm isn’t doing too much for me at the moment, either.”

“Why haven’t we done this before?”

She snorts. “Just give me a few minutes, and we can do it again.”

What happens is that she manages to roll onto her stomach, pull her tank top over her head and throw it down onto the floor with her computer and her notes for Monday’s show, and crawl clumsily to where he’s leaning against the footboard of her bed. They haven’t closed her blackout curtains yet, so her bedroom is filled with the light of Times Square Christmas billboards from two blocks over, his face painted in bright white, red, and green lights as she pulls his boxers down his hips. It switches to blue as he dons the expression that most men take on when they realize that a woman is about to take his cock into her mouth.

Blindly, she reaches back for the bottle of lube lost somewhere in the sheets.

She kisses the head of his erection as she squirts a quarter-sized amount of lubricant onto her hand, fitting it around him. Will’s not a small man, in any way — her fingers don’t quite reach all the way around to her thumb — and she’d much rather do this for him than attempt to take him inside her at the moment.

Squeezing tightly, she works her hand up and down his shaft. More fluid beads at the tip, and she flicks her tongue through the slit at his head before taking him in her mouth more fully.

“Mac…”

She flattens a hand over his thigh, moving it inwards to where his balls have tightened up against his cock.

Cheek twitching, he groans. “Okay, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna—”

Sucking hard, she hollows out her cheeks. Will exhales through his nose, barely in control; his hips jerk up, just barely, just a hint at how close he is. Managing her name again, he sweeps her hair off her shoulders, collecting it in his hands and away from her face. She bobs her head deeper into his lap, her tongue tasting the salt tang of his erection. His pulse leaps; she feels it against her hand and grips him even more tightly.

They make eye contact over the length of his torso, and she revels in the way he throbs in her mouth, on her tongue, against her lips.

She’s not sure how long she keeps him on the edge like this — easing up when his vocalizations take a turn towards gibberish, bearing down when he becomes too coherent — but eventually the dull sensation of overuse subsides between her thighs and she’s reaching for the drawer of her nightstand again, this time for a small bullet vibrator.

Then, giving him no time to react, straddles him where he’s moved to the center of the bed, and sinks down onto his penis. Legs not quite knowing what to do with themselves, he briefly loses his balance, winding his arms tightly around her waist and pulling her breasts towards his face.

“Fuck, can you warn a guy?”

Head falling back, she unfurls her legs and then wraps them around his hips. “Honey, I’m going to have sex with you now.”

“Just don’t… don’t move for a minute, or this is going to be over before it starts.”

“I’ve already come once, I don’t really think—”

_“MacKenzie.”_

With a content sort of sigh, she fights the instinct to mold herself against him, to squirm and writhe until they’re a perfect fit. Instead, she rolls her head forward, burying her nose against his cheekbone and slings her arms around his shoulders. Over the top of his head, she toggles with the settings on this vibrator, and checks the batteries.

The digital clock on her television stand changes over to the next minute.

“You ready, Billy?”

His fingers clench into the small of her back, and she sighs again, shivering. “I am barely tame.”

“I like you wild.”

Proving the point, she cards the fingers on one hand through his hair, messing it up more than her earlier ministrations had been able to do. Then, squeezing her thighs around him, she switches on the bullet, and puts it between them, resting it at its lowest setting against her clit.

Whining, Will thrusts up into her, holding onto her for dear life.

“You know, you’ve hid these things from me for seven weeks, and not that I’m complaining—”

“Did you like seeing me blush?” she pants, moving the bullet down to tease her entrance where his erection is stretching her.

His short nails scratch up and down the sides of her spine. “Maybe I did.”

Their hips rock together, reaching shamelessly for the same release.

Will’s the only man who’s been able to erase the worry of looking unattractive or sounding ridiculous in bed from her mind, half through his own talent for making her come and half through his constant assurances that he thinks she’s the most perfect woman in existence. So she doesn’t worry about how it looks as she watches his hardened length entering her over and over as they move together, rubbing the toy over her clit and her opening.

“Shit,” he mutters, realizing what she’s doing.

“Does that — do you like that?”

His movements stuttering, he nods. “Fuck, yeah, I—”

Rolling her hips even harder, she flutters her muscles around his erection, which flexes inside her in response. Fingers clumsy, she presses the vibrator to fit along her folds, one end of it resting atop his member. It flexes again.

“We should get you a cock ring.”

She doesn’t quite _mean_ to say that out loud, but her filter has been entirely abrupted by the third orgasm building between her legs.

Will groans.

“Whatever you want.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

“I’ll put it in my damn vows, if you want.”

Which is the exact moment that she comes, hard, one hand still clenching in his hair — later she’ll swear that it was entirely coincidental. Groaning helplessly, he follows her in short order. His arms constrict around her until it’s as if he’s wrapped his entire self around her, doing his level best to thrust up into her as his cock pumps and twitches his climax into her. His face winds up where it usually does, in her breasts, his mouth unerringly finding a nipple to occupy itself with as they come down from the high.

There’s a small moment of struggle where they both want the other on top of them.

Mac, as usual, wins out, and Will comes to rest in the cradle of her legs. Mac heads turn towards an errant buzzing in her ear, laughing hard when she realizes she forgot to turn the vibrator off. Extricating her hand from where it’s making his cowlick worse, she reaches for where the damn thing landed and fumbles the switch before tossing it back into the mess they’ve made of the bed.

Inhaling deeply, Will removes his head from her cleavage to look up at her questioningly.

“So,” she asks, trying to ignore the dryness in her mouth and the cramp in her foot. “Which one was your favorite?”

Grinning tiredly, he shakes his head, and busies himself with her chest again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
